When my Grandad was suddenly taken by vascular dementia, our lives changed overnight. In the middle of everything that was happening, we thought my Nan’s struggles with her memory were down to stress and grief. It wasn’t until later that we realised she too was beginning her own journey with dementia.

Eventually, Nanny moved into a care home, where she became known as the happiest resident. She was always smiling, always warm, and always making people laugh.

Although she definitely had her moments… particularly when she decided everyone in the lounge needed to leave because they were making too much noise ‘in her house!’

At the end of February, we were told that Nan was nearing the end of her life. Feeling completely broken, I booked a half marathon. I needed something to hold onto mentally. Something to focus on and, even for a little while, take my mind off the situation.

I told Nan all about it.

And she smiled.

On the day of the race, I left her side to run.

That was the Sunday.

Early on the Wednesday morning, Nanny passed away.

And almost at exactly the same time, I received a message from a friend offering me a place in the Paris Marathon, just a few weeks later. It seemed that running was something I’d continue for a little while because in a moment when it felt like my world had ended, I suddenly had something to keep me moving.

A reason to run.

And now, this run is for her.

Running has helped me through grief, given me something to focus on, and given me a way to turn something incredibly painful into something positive.

I’m running for my Nan. I’m running for my Grandad.

And I’m running for every family who knows the heartbreak of watching someone they love slowly disappear behind this cruel disease.

If you’re able to donate, I would be incredibly grateful.

Thank you for taking the time to read my story, and for helping me run for her. ❤️